


Matchsnaking

by patster223



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Fluff, M/M, Newt has a snake, Romance, Snakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 13:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3937798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patster223/pseuds/patster223
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a snake in Hermann's apartment. This is not how he wanted to start his day.</p><p>Apartment neighbors AU where Newt's snake keeps sneaking into Hermann's apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matchsnaking

**Author's Note:**

> Fic idea curtsey of [decadentmousse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/decadent_mousse/pseuds/decadent_mousse%20), puntastic title curtsey of [rizaoftheowls](http://rizaoftheowls.tumblr.com/post/118836083265/okay-but-i-had-a-thought-inspired-by-that), and snake guidance/knowledge curtsey of [irishsparkleparty](http://irishsparkleparty.tumblr.com/). Any snake inaccuracies in here are on me. All I know is that they are little noodles.

There is a snake in Hermann’s apartment.

Hermann has seen snakes before. Tiny garden snakes that Bastien chased through the grass when they were little. They were a tad unsettling when Bastien waved them in Hermann’s face, but they certainly weren’t intimidating.

This is not one of those snakes. This snake is _huge,_ thick and coiled, inky black with angry orange markings, at least a _meter_ long-

And it’s in Hermann’s _apartment_.

The snake isn’t nearly as startled by Hermann as Hermann is of it. It only glances lazily at him before continuing to curl up on the kitchen counter.

There is a snake in Hermann’s apartment and…well, Hermann’s not exactly sure what to _do_ about this.

A banging on the door interrupts Hermann’s unreciprocated staring contest with the snake. He looks between the snake and the door, not _thrilled_ about leaving the former out of his sight. But the knocking only grows more insistent.

Hermann sighs. “Wait here,” he orders the snake, as if _that’s_ going to do anything, and goes to answer the door.

It’s his neighbor. The short one, the man with all the tattoos and the cute- the _messy_ hair. Hermann’s lip curls.

“What is it?” he asks. His tone is curt, but polite – as if he doesn’t have a snake infestation in his home.

“Hey, uh, weird question,” his neighbor – Ned? No, Newton, that’s it – says. “I’m in the process of making a new cage for my pet, and in the meantime she’s become a _bit_ of an escape artist. Which is to say: have you happened to notice a three-foot-long ball python around here?”

Hermann is silent for about two seconds before he finally manages to formulate a reply. “I…what…. _you_ ,” he seethes.

“So…is that a yes?”

“Get that _snake-_ ”

“Okay, definitely a yes-”

“-out of my apartment!”

“Alright, alright, no need to freak out! Well, three foot snake in your apartment – I guess I could see why you’re freaking out. But just so you know, she’s _completely_ harmless-”

By now, Newton has breezed through the doorway and located the snake. He’s ignoring Hermann now, instead talking to the snake with cooing noises that would be more appropriately bestowed upon a small child than a python.

“Hey there, Lucy, up and at ‘em, girl,” Newton says. He strokes the snake’s head before gently moving it into his arms. It’s almost sweet, how carefully he handles it.

But. A python. In Hermann’s kitchen.

No, there is nothing sweet about this.

Hermann shakes his head to rid himself of the thought, and glares at Newton.

“Kindly keep that thing in its _cage_ next time,” he snaps, as Newton and the snake make their exit.

Newton scowls. “ _She_ is not a _thing_ , you-”

Hermann slams the door in his face. The action is unspeakably rude, and quite uncharacteristic of Hermann. He wants to flush with shame, but-

There was a _snake_ in his _apartment,_ alright? A slammed door is perfectly understandable in the wake of such an incident.

 

Except, perhaps not as understandable as Hermann thought. Because the next time Hermann sees Newton, Newton hasn’t forgiven him.

Which is fine. Hermann hasn’t forgiven Newton either. Mainly because of the _reason_ that they see each other again. Because that _snake_ has found its way back into Hermann’s apartment.

“How do you manage to lose track of a bloody _python_?” Hermann sneers.

He makes sure to stand far away from the snake as Newton coaxes it back into his arms. Newton assures him that the thing – “Not a _thing_ , God, how many times do I have to tell you?” – is harmless, but, well. Hermann prefers standing over here nonetheless.

“How do you manage to be such an asshole?” Newton shoots back. “Life’s just full of mysteries, isn’t it, Hermann?”

“It’s quite easy to be an arsehole when one’s neighbor cannot control their giant _snake_ ,” Hermann says easily. His tone is full of bite and vitriol and, oddly enough, _delight-_ it’s odd, but he can’t deny that it’s a bit thrilling, this. Not the snake part, but the barbs they’ve been exchanging since Newton came to retrieve the python.

It’s embarrassing to admit, especially since they hardly know each other, but Hermann has never had anyone he can talk to like this. There is no filter when talking to Newton, and it’s- it’s rather refreshing, to be honest.

Still. Snake in Hermann’s apartment. He’s still a bit bitter about that.

“You think she’s giant, huh?” Newton says with a wicked grin. “Man, she isn’t even fully grown.”

Hermann swallows heavily, taking another step back from the snake.

Apparently seeing the retreat as a victory, Newton turns his attention back to the python.

“Your apartment is closer to the furnace," Newton explains. "I think that’s why she’s sneaking over here. Nice and toasty for her. Plus, the building is pretty old. Pretty easy to get into the walls if you’re just a noodle like _this_ little gal.”

Hermann snorts. He wouldn’t call that ‘gal’ little. “Regardless of her motivation, I’d really prefer not to find that thing-”

“Lucy,” Newton says firmly. “I know you’re pissed at me, dude – fine, understandable, it’s not an uncommon reaction – but don’t take it out on the snake.”

“Fine,” Hermann sighs. “But I don’t want to find _Lucy_ in this apartment anymore, understood?”

“ _Understood,_ dude.”

 

Hermann finds Lucy in his apartment again.

At this point, he isn’t even shocked anymore. He simply sighs and keeps one eye on the snake as he puts away his groceries. He doesn’t really have to worry about her moving though. Ever since Hermann walked in, she’s been curled up into a shy little ball.

It’s…kind of cute really.

Hermann shakes his head. He’s clearly been spending too much time with this snake – and _definitely_ spending too much time with Newton. Groceries put away, he goes to knock on Newton’s door and yell at him about snakes and neighborly etiquette.

Except Newton’s not there.

Hermann groans. He wants that _thing-_ he wants _Lucy_ out of his apartment. How is he supposed to concentrate on grading papers when he’s got a _python_ in his living room?

But in the end, it's not like he has a choice. Lucy is still curled up in her corner, and _Hermann_ is certainly not going to try to move her. Maybe...maybe she’ll just stay there until Newton comes home.

As if Hermann were so lucky. Apparently ball pythons can be as adventurous as they are shy, for it only takes ten minutes for Lucy to start roaming his apartment. And only twenty for her to brush up against his leg while he’s at his desk.

He doesn’t shriek. He is _startled,_ but he doesn’t- he doesn’t shriek, alright?

There's a knocking at his door. “Everything okay in there?”

Hermann pinches the bridge of his nose before shooting a glare at Lucy. “Please, just, _stay_ ,” he says to her, before going to answer the door.

It’s Tendo, his mouth pinched in concern. “Are you okay? I heard a scream-”

“Newton’s snake decided to join me this afternoon,” Hermann says darkly.

“Oh, so you finally met Lucy! And Newton, I’m guessing,” Tendo says with a grin. “I’ve been meaning to introduce the two of you.”

“Lucy did that for you,” Hermann says drily. “Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” Tendo winces. “Wow, you two must have really gotten off on the wrong foot. Shame, he’s a really nice guy-”

“He called me an arsehole.”

“Well…you kind of are sometimes, Hermann. But, hey, so is he -- you have so much in common! Plus, he's still pretty cute-”

Hermann remembers the gentle curves of Newton’s hand as he picked up Lucy. He flushes.

“Whether he’s cute or not is _irrelevant._ Irrelevant,” he repeats, when Tendo’s responding hum is just a touch too indulgent. “Stop trying to set me up with the neighbors.”

Tendo holds up his hands in surrender. “Yeah, sure, whatever. That mean you don’t want his number then?”

“Of course not,” Hermann says firmly.

But…perhaps it would be useful to have Newton’s number. If only so that the next time – and yes, he’s already accepted that there _will_ be a next time – Lucy barges in, he can call Newton instead of walking down the hall.

Hermann sighs. “Give me the number,” he says, hoping he doesn’t regret this. Though Tendo’s resulting victory dance has already lost Hermann that battle -- he's regretting this as they speak.

Still, as long as he has the number now, he may as well call Newton about the snake.

Five minutes later, Hermann is yelling at Newton over the phone while Lucy stretches out lazily under his desk.

He tries not to think about how much this is starting to feel like a routine.

 

But it’s definitely a routine, because the next time Newton retrieves Lucy, Hermann says more than the obligatory ‘get that snake out of my apartment please.’ He starts making _small talk._

God help him.

“Why the name ‘Lucy?’” he asks.

Newton lifts the python into his arms, a task made easy due to the fact that Lucy has curled into a ball again.

“Why not? Cute name for a cute snake,” he says.

“I suppose ‘cute’ just isn’t the adjective I usually associate with snakes,” Hermann says. He glances apologetically at Lucy, and then internally chides himself for doing so.

“Well it _should_ be,” Newton says, lightly stroking Lucy’s head. She uncurls slightly at the touch. “When these little guys are babies, they are _so_ cute. Want to know how cute? My friend named her snake Marshmallow, _that’s_ how squishy and cute these things are.”

“Marshmallow,” Hermann mutters, shaking his head.

“I’ll teach you to love snakes yet, Hermann. There’s so much to them! Dude, do you even know how many morphs – uh, morphs are skin variations from selective breeding – there are for ball pythons? _So many._ Most of them named for the weirdest shit too. Like, there’s a morph called Orange Dream Mystic, how weird is that?”

Pretty weird, but then again, Hermann thinks snakes in general are a bit strange. “And what morph is Lucy?”

Newton points to Lucy’s black skin, to the orange whorls of color that break it up. Hermann had thought the orange alarming at first, but now he finds himself marveling at the vivid hue.

“She’s a Galaxy morph.”

Hermann laughs. Of _course_ she is. No wonder he’s grown a bit fond of her, even against his better judgement.

Newton raises an eyebrow, and Hermann begins to explain – well, more like exclaim – his love of the galaxy to Newton.

And where most people would have responded with polite interest, Newton immediately fires off question after question about Hermann’s studies. He meets Hermann with curiosity, skepticism, and a deep knowledge of his own field, biology. The whole thing is half-conversation, half- _battle._ It’s not long before they’re practically yelling at each other about their respective studies.

Hermann doesn’t even realize how much noise they’re making until a neighbor bangs on his door and asks them to keep it down.

Newton yells at them to buzz off, and Hermann cannot help but give into a fit of laughter which Newton soon joins him in.

 

Newton starts texting Hermann. He mainly texts him pictures of Lucy – _she misses u! she’s probably plotting to break into your place right now actually, better watch out –_ but occasionally Hermann will receive a selfie of Newton with his snake.

Today’s selfie seems to depict Newton trying to snap the picture while also keeping the phone out of Lucy’s curious reach. It makes for a contorted and ridiculous picture, with Newton’s panicked eyes taking up a majority of the shot. Hermann chuckles to himself.

“Who’s that?” says Mako as she places more paperwork on his desk. They’re in the middle of reviewing her thesis, and as a result his desk is nothing _but_ paper at the moment.

“My, ah…” What are they exactly? There isn't a single word that encapsulates the relationship ‘annoying neighbor whose snake keeps breaking into my apartment, but he also makes me laugh, so I’m not really sure what to do with him.’

“He’s my…friend,” Hermann says finally, setting his phone aside. He’s been looking at it long enough that it feels uncomfortably like he's _gazing_ at the picture. Which. Hermann is not doing.

“Back to work, Ms. Mori,” he mutters, when Mako smiles at him just a _touch_ too knowingly.

 

_Lucy is here. How have you not finished her new cage yet?_

The responding text comes an hour later. Newton must be quite busy at the lab he works at. The last couple times Lucy broke in, he’d replied more punctually to Hermann’s texts.

_Im a bit busy you know. Creating artificial tissue, helping starry-eyed grad students, catching up on my Netflix queue. I don’t have a lot of time for her cage. Plus, the parts still need to ship ;(_

Hermann snorts.

_Busy, hmm? Quite the dashing existence you must lead, texting me at work and rewatching Friends._

‘Dashing?’ Who uses the word ‘dashing’ to describe someone? Hermann puts his head in his hands, but immediately – _too_ immediately, it’s a bit embarrassing -- looks up when his phone buzzes with a response.

_;P I’ll have you kno Im rewatching Gilmore Girls, not Friends. be home around 6. dont u two wait up for me_

Hermann rolls his eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, he joins Lucy on the couch. He’s not quite comfortable around her yet – certainly not enough to try picking her up – but he’s become used to the snake’s presence.

“Some television while we wait for your wayward owner then?” he asks Lucy. The snake flicks out her tongue, which Hermann takes to be a yes.

Okay, maybe Hermann should invest in a pet. Not a snake, but perhaps a cat. Or maybe he should say yes the next time Tendo invites him to quiz night. Whichever option will stop Hermann from conversing with his neighbor’s snake all the time.

She’s a good listener though. Not that he’ll ever tell Newton that.

Hermann flips through the movie channels. The first interesting looking one has Samuel L. Jackson in it, and takes place on a plane, and-

“No,” Hermann says firmly, glancing at Lucy as he switches the channel. “Wouldn’t want you getting any ideas.”

Not that he’s particularly worried about Lucy terrorizing a plane. Lucy has her adventurous moods, but for the most part she’s content to curl up on Hermann’s couch, like she’s doing now.

Hermann doesn’t plan on telling Newton how endearing he finds that either.

He settles on a nature documentary while they wait for Newton to come home. Hermann is exhausted though. He’s spent all day on his feet trying to make sure that the physics department’s fundraising banquet didn’t blow up in their faces. Now that he’s finally home and sitting down, it doesn’t take long for the documentary’s murmured narration to drag him toward sleep.

He wakes up to knocking on the door. Rubbing blearily at his eyes, he tries to get up – but finds that Lucy’s head is resting atop his knee.

Several weeks ago, he’d probably find this alarming – and he still does, just a bit – but now he smiles at the sight. The weight and warmth of Lucy’s head on his knee is soothing – though it’s a good job she didn’t put her head on his bad leg.

He gently extricates himself from her weight and answers the door.

“She’s in here,” he yawns, motioning for Newton to come in.

“Cool, cool. Sorry I took so long, I- hey, I love this documentary!”

A new film had come on while Hermann was asleep. It looks like it's about the rainforest maybe? He isn’t quite sure. He isn’t quite sure if he’s fully _awake_ right now.

Which is maybe why he decides to say, “Would…would you like to stay and watch it?”

Hermann determinedly does not blush when Newton gapes at him. Sure, Hermann isn’t usually so forward, but it’s not _unheard of_ for him to be polite. Gaping is hardly an appropriate response.

Thankfully, the gape is soon replaced with a smile, and Newton nods his head. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be nice.”

With Lucy taking up one end of the couch, they’re forced to sit side-by-side as they watch the documentary. With Newton so close, Hermann can hardly concentrate on the film, can hardly _think._ Though Newton is still inches away from him, the other man’s body heat is practically burning a hole in Hermann’s side.

He bites his lip, and spends most of the film staring at Newton’s hand instead of the screen. They're nice hands, Hermann has always through so. Now especially, those hands are such a temptation -- the right one tapes rhythmically against Newton’s jeans, so _close_ to Hermann's own hand.

Hermann deliberates whether or not to hold it. He probably should. It’d probably feel nice. But the gentle rhythm of Newton’s tapping hand is too soothing, and he manages to fall asleep before he can make a decision.

He dreams of a shifting forest; thick, hot air; a canopy of snakes. It should be frightening -- but there’s something soft pillowed against his cheek. Hermann is alarmed when the pillow starts to shift away, but it thankfully stills when Hermann clutches at it. He sighs happily, burrowing his face into the pillow and marveling at its decadent warmth.

When he wakes up, Newton and Lucy are gone, and the TV is off.

Hermann frowns, both at their absence and his dream. He can't remember the dream. Already it slips out of his grasp, as elusive and shapeless as smoke. All he can recall is a presence, something warm and comfortable and solid.

He shrugs and moves to his bed. The ghost of the presence stays with him even as he falls asleep again.

 

“You want to try holding her?”

“ _Absolutely_ not.”

“Well _she_ wants to be held by _you_.”

Hermann raises an eyebrow. “I highly doubt your pet snake is harboring a desire to be held by me, Newton.”

“I’ve told you, it’s Newt. And she so does want to be held by you! Just look at that face,” Newton says, nodding to the python sitting on his chest.

Newton has taken up residence on Hermann’s couch while Hermann grades papers. Hermann’s not quite sure _how_ this routine of theirs had started. Ever since they’d watched the documentary together, Newton had been acting a bit differently. He’s been smiling more, and has taken to hanging around Hermann’s apartment for hours after Lucy was retrieved.

Hermann notices the change right away, but doesn’t call any attention to it. He enjoys their new routine far too much to risk disrupting it.

What he _does_ call attention to is the fact that Lucy’s face looks just as it always does, and that Newton is once again badgering him into joining his quest to love all snakes.

“First of all: if that were my quest, it would be a noble one. Second: that is so a puppy dog face! How can you not see that?” Newton says.

“Because it’s not _there._ ”

Except…it kind of _does_ seem like Lucy is giving him a look. A sort of indulgent _well are you going to hold me or not?_ look. Or maybe it's a _well are you going to stop flirting with him or not?_ look.

This is ridiculous. She isn’t _actually_ looking at Hermann with _any_ sort of expression. It only seems that way because Newton planted the notion in his head.

Still. Even the illusion of such an expression is enough.

Hermann sighs. “I can’t believe I’m saying this – but fine. Let me hold her.”

Hermann suspects that, were Newton not lying down with a snake on top of him, he would be jumping up and down in excitement.

“Great! Okay, so – come on, Lucy, get off – what you want to do is get your hands about here-”

Newton directs his hands about a third of the way down Lucy's body. Hermann bites his lip, trying not to think about how his heart stutters at the gentle touch of Newton’s hands.

“-and here, now try lifting her. She’ll probably start to coil around you, so don’t freak out. If you’re not feeling it, you can just hand her back to me.”

Hermann knows most of this already actually. About two weeks into this arrangement – if their situation could even be called as much – Hermann found himself researching ball pythons. Just as a precaution. After all, as unhappy as he’d been about Lucy’s presence, he didn’t want to accidentally hurt or startle her.

Though he certainly never imagined that he’d end up _holding_ her.

But he is. He’s about to hold a meter-long snake just because he has a stupid crush on his neighbor. This is his life now.

“Fantastic,” he mutters, before carefully lifting Lucy into his arms. She’s bulkier than expected, but not unmanageable. She does most of the heavy-lifting for him, really, immediately coiling her body around Hermann’s arm in order to support herself.

Lucy’s skin is smooth to the touch, almost warm from her time soaking up Newton’s body heat. Hermann had imagined rough, abrasive scales, but instead finds that she’s soft, pliant in his arms.

It’s not too bad. Not necessarily an experience he’s _eager_ to repeat, but-

Oh, who is he kidding. He could hold Lucy all day if it meant pleasing Newton.

Hermann glances up. Said biologist is staring at him with an oddly intense look in his eye.

Is Hermann doing something wrong? He would shift uncomfortably were he not holding an enormous snake. “Is, ah, is this alright?”

“No, you’re doing good,” Newton says quickly. “You’re a natural, man, it’s like you were born to hold snakes.”

But Newton’s still looking at him strangely. His mouth is parted slightly, like he wants to say something.

“Well, good to know that my destiny is centered around holding large reptiles, instead of redefining the field of astrophysics like I'd thought,” Hermann says. The retort comes out a bit weakly though – why is Newton _staring_ at him like that?

“Well, she _is_ a Galaxy ball python. Kind of two birds with one stone,” Newton says. He casts a fond look at Lucy as he speaks, and Hermann realizes-

Newton looked at Hermann like he looks at Lucy. Not exactly the same look, of course – but it’s the same kind of facial cues that from Newton mean _family._ The same smile lines wrinkling at his mouth, the same unbridled pride that shines from his eyes, the same toothy grin. The look is _affectionate._

The look, coming from Newton, is dizzying. Hermann's heart pounds.

Clearing his throat, he says, “Newton, I-”

“I finished her new cage.”

Hermann blinks. “Oh. Then…then I suppose I won’t be seeing you over here anymore?” Perhaps he just imagined that look. Newton was just happy to see that Hermann likes Lucy, that’s all. Oh, why does he do this to himself-

“Actually…that’s what I wanted to talk about,” Newton says hesitantly. “Because, you see, I don’t think Lucy is gonna be happy about not coming over here anymore.”

Hope flickers back to life in Hermann’s chest, hesitant and meek. “Oh?”

“Oh yeah,” Newton says, a bit too casually. “Your apartment is really warm, and you’re so good at holding her, and…you’re a really nice guy, Hermann. You're- you're smart and handsome and all that stuff. Of course she wants to come back here.”

“I,” Hermann stutters, unable to help the wide grin pulling at his lips. “I, well- of course, that would be fine. That would be wonderful. She’s welcome here _any_ time.”

“Really?" Newton says. It seems like Hermann's hope is contagious -- he can't recall Newton ever sounding so earnest. 

“Of course. I’ve grown quite fond of, ah, Lucy as well. I wouldn’t want to lose her presence here,” Hermann says deliberately. “I’ve come to treasure it.”

“Wow, that’s…that’s really good. I like you a lot too, man.” Newton frowns. “Wait, just to be clear: we’re not actually talking about snakes, right? This is, like, subtle flirting?”

“I think we moved past subtle awhile ago,” Hermann points out.

“I thought I was being pretty subtle!"

"You were _not_ being subtle -- you sent me nearly ten selfies yesterday!"

"You weren't being subtle either," Newton retorts. "You fell asleep on my _shoulder_ while we watched that documentary, dude. And got all sad when I tried to move away. You've been crushing on me big time."

Hermann clears his throat. That bit of information...clears up a lot of things. "I suppose I have been," he admits.

"Me too, obviously," Newton says. He slowly places a hand on Hermann's knee. "Okay, so...now that we’re both talking openly about how much we dig each other instead of projecting it onto my snake, could, I, uh. Could I maybe kiss you now? Or ask you on a date?” 

“I would _very_ much like to kiss you,” Hermann says. “And go on a date. But it may have to wait, as I am a bit busy carrying a meter of snake at the moment.”

“Yeah, fair point,” Newton breathes, quickly – but still carefully – lifting Lucy out of Hermann’s arms.

“You’re quite the little matchmaker, aren’t you?” Newton coos at the snake. His eyes widen. “Hermann, wait. She’s not a matchmaker, she’s a-”

“Please don’t-”

“match-”

“Newton.”

“- _snaker_.”

Hermann groans. “Is it too early in the relationship to break up with you?”

“Considering it’s been about twenty seconds: yes. You have to at least let me buy you dinner first,” Newton says with a wink.

“Very well,” Hermann sighs, not bothering to hide his smile.

Newton laughs, and quickly pecks Hermann on the cheek before going to set Lucy down elsewhere.

Hermann absently touches his cheek, noting how hot the skin is where Newton kissed him. He watches Newton relocate Lucy next to the heater that she’s so fond of. She curls up happily as Newton strokes her head.

Hermann can’t help but fondly shake his head at the sight. Good lord. There is a _snake_ in his apartment, and, well.

He can’t seem to bring himself to mind.

**Author's Note:**

> [Here's a picture of what Lucy looks like, the cutie.](http://www.worldofballpythons.com/files/morphs/galaxy/001.jpg)


End file.
